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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29736678">The Doctor Is In... the Inn</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerfectPaperBluebirds/pseuds/PerfectPaperBluebirds'>PerfectPaperBluebirds</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sickfic Drabbles [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Coughing, Fever, Fever Dreams, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Medieval Medicine, Plague, Sick Character, Sickfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:06:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,612</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29736678</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerfectPaperBluebirds/pseuds/PerfectPaperBluebirds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt: "On a dark and stormy night, a plague doctor enters a tavern. When he immediately starts coughing, everyone and their goat runs away from him except the old bartender who... well, cares for the doctor, for he’s seen it all and done it all, and they strike up a relationship."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sickfic Drabbles [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2167113</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Doctor Is In... the Inn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Strange things happen in storms, me old mother used to say. I could just about hear her speaking it in me ear as I watched the lightning flash through the window, though she's been dead these 20 years. I’ve not found that saying to be particularly true in these parts, but leastways, I like to believe it’s true elsewhere. Regardless, meself, I always feel a little more alive on a night that’s dark and stormy.</p><p>One thing is certainly true in these parts though: storms are bad for business. So, when I heard the inn's front door creak open that same stormy night, of course I turned ‘round right away to greet my guest, polishing a fresh glass for whomever it was, as is my custom. </p><p>At the sight of the figure in the doorway, I couldn’t help but step back a pace, for the newcomer was a Plague Doctor. The appearance alone of the visitor was enough to send a chill up a man's spine, with the fearsome beak and billowing cloak, but meself, I’d never seen a Plague Doctor in person. This area hasn’t yet been much affected by the plague, saints be praised, so such folks are a rare sight herabouts. The dark rumble of thunder as the cloaked figure closed the door only served to make the spectacle more frightening for those of us within.</p><p>It seemed I felt a slow chill fill the room, as one by one the other patrons turned to stare. The person in the mask, laden with a long cane and a large rucksack,  shuffled their way to the fireplace in the corner, dripping rainwater all the way. The other customers pressed themselves as far away from the figure as possible. Even Grandma Brigg's batty goat skittered into the opposite corner from the doctor, hiding behind its owner. </p><p>The newcomer was clearly heading for the two tables in front of the fire. Willie Dugan, who occupied one of the two, leapt up, nearly spilling his ale, and hustled to the other side of the room as fast as his fat legs could carry him. The doctor gave him but a glance, then continued toward the fireplace. Reaching it, he dropped the burdens he carried and collapsed into a chair like a deeply weary man, though he made not a sound, at least not one I heard. Everyone continued to stare as the doctor pulled his black cloak closer with a shiver, slid as close to the fire as he could, and stretched out his hands to the flames.</p><p>However, folks had the fear of God put in them when out of nowhere, the doctor bent forward and let out a thick, hacking cough that seemed to come from deep in his lungs. Grandma Briggs screamed when she heard that cough, and clattered her skinny legs right out the door, goat and all. Mr. Grimes too quickly stood, donning his cap, and left posthaste with a fearful glance at the cloaked figure. The 4 remaining customers pulled themselves as tightly to the opposite wall as they could, turned their backs to the doctor, and commenced pretending he didn’t exist.</p><p>I must admit, for a moment I was afeared. After all, a man didn't see a Plague Doctor in his inn every day. Yet still, a customer was a customer, and I would have no one calling Hamish a coward, or a rude innkeeper. Plus, in spite of meself I was curious about this visitor, and I wasn’t convinced he had the Plague, not from what I knew of it. So, I hitched up my trousers, smoothed my apron, and went over to greet the arrival.</p><p>I wagered he couldn’t see well in that mask, so I made sure to make a wide arc and approached him from the front so as not to startle him. </p><p>“Greetings, master Doctor. Terrible weather tonight, ain’t it?”</p><p>The doctor answered with the barest nod, and I couldn’t quite tell if he was looking at me or not. Seeing he didn’t plan to elaborate, I took a deep breath and tried again.</p><p>“Listen, we don’t get folks such as yerself ‘round here often, and I’m right pleased to serve ye. I must ask though, ye been treatin’ them plague victims recently? You ain’t been around sick folks before coming into my inn, have ye?”</p><p>The doctor gave a firm shake of his head.</p><p>“No, no, of course you ain’t. I thought as much, but a man must ask such things in these times. Well, me name’s Hamish Burnshaw and I’m the proprietor of this fine Berryhill Inn. What can I be gettin’ ye to warm yerself on this stormy night?”</p><p>The doctor gestured with his hand and shook his head--he wanted nothing. A few more barking coughs burst out of him before I could reply, and while I couldn’t help but jump back-- as I say, a sign of the times-- I also felt sorry for the man, for he sounded most unwell. </p><p>“I see, I see-- then it’s a room ye be needin’? I would hate to see a man in yer state go back out into the rain tonight, if ye don’t mind me sayin’ so. You sound right poorly, master Doctor.”</p><p>The doctor hesitated, then gave a weak nod. </p><p>“That’s right, then. Take yer ease here in the warm and dry off a bit. I have the perfect little room to suit ye. It’s right behind the kitchen chimney and stays toasty warm all through the day. I’ll have it ready for ye in a blink. Wait here.”</p><p>I proceeded to call my daughter Eliza and have her freshen the Chimney Room, as we called it. She’s a quick girl and had it done in double time, with an extra blanket and fresh water to boot, along with a mug of tea. This wasn’t our usual accommodations, mind, but the poor man seemed in need of something of that sort. </p><p>When I informed him his room was ready, he gave me another one of his little nods and slowly stood, taking up his things, but I couldn’t help but notice the wobble in his legs, and how he gripped the table to help him stand. He was almost knocked over again as soon as he was on his feet by another awful coughing attack. Without thinking, I grabbed his elbow, for I feared he would land himself on the ground otherwise. I made note that he let me support him for an extra moment even after he had caught his breath before freeing his arm.</p><p>That being the case, I stuck close to his side as I showed him to his room. He seemed to lack the strength to even lift his feet, and he kept a hand pressed to his chest as he shuffled behind me, for he kept coughing as we went. It seemed now that he had started, he couldn’t get the coughing stopped. I went as quick as I dared for his sake, for he needed to be lying down hours ago, so it seemed.</p><p>And indeed, as soon as we entered the room I’d be letting him, he went straight for the bed, and with a little start, I noted he was removing his mask. ‘Twas only natural, for of course a man wouldn’t want to sleep in such a contraption, but it was a strange moment for this old barkeep to see a man emerge from inside a plague doctor, odd as that sounds. He carefully, if shakily, placed the mask, pack, and cane at the side of the bed, though he kept the cloak on, and as he went to lie down, I saw his face at last.</p><p>He was only just a boy, barely able to grow a beard, with fine, sandy hair and bright blue eyes. And perhaps the eyes seemed all the brighter from the fever flush over his cheeks. For indeed, he looked more sickly than anyone I’d seen in some years, though lacking those terrible boils from the Plague o' course. He had a gentleman’s face and posture, and it seemed he had been brought up well. He dropped onto the bed like a sack of potatoes, wrapping his cloak tightly about himself along with both blankets, groaning weakly. Now I tell ye, me old heart just melted for the lad, alone and sick without a friend in the world, so it seemed. As we regarded each other, I saw he too was afraid. His eyes pleaded for aid of any kind, and it seemed I was to be the one to give it.  </p><p>I quickly fetched him the tea my girl had prepared, and as he took it, he spoke for the first time since we’d met:</p><p>“Thank you, sir.” His voice was deep, but barely more than a croak. I wagered he had coughed his throat raw enough that he could hardly speak. Sure enough, he sipped the hot tea with a look of relief, as if some pain was eased from drinking it.</p><p>“You’re most welcome, master Doctor. You look as if you needed it, and I’m happy to oblige. Listen here though, lad, I’m insisting you’ll stay here at my inn until you’re well. For seeing yer face now, I’d be right distraught to think of you going back out into this winter weather with that chill o’ yourn. You stay here in this bed and me and me girl Eliza will look after ye until yer feelin’ yerself again. I won’t hear a word of anything else.”</p><p>A look of gratitude washed over the doctor’s face, and he nodded weakly.</p><p>“Good, then it’s settled.” A thought occurred to me, and before I could talk meself out of it, I put a hand to the boy’s face to feel his fever, just as my sweet Margery did for me and the children many a time when we were poorly. Indeed his skin felt like fire under my hand. The lad was very still as I went about this, and I heard the rasping in his chest as he breathed.</p><p>“You’re full of fever, master Doctor. I’ll see if I can’t round up some herbs to ease for ye, so ye can rest more easy. Is there anything else yer needin’ in the meantime?”</p><p>He shook his head, taking another sip of tea. “You’ve done more than enough already.”</p><p>“Well, we're all God’s creation at the end of the day, ain’t we, and the Lord in heaven likes us to care for the sick, as I’m sure you’re well acquainted. 'Tis no trouble. Ye got a name, sir, so’s I ain’t always callin’ ye ‘master Doctor’?”</p><p>He took a breath to answer, and instead coughed again. I waited as he caught his breath and tried once more: “Alastair. My name is Alastair Clayton,” he rasped weakly. </p><p>“Alastair. That’s a good name ye have, master Alastair. It’s a pleasure to meet ye. Well, as I said, I’ll be around to check on ye again, or else Eliza will. Meantime, try to get yer rest. I must be gettin’ back to the other patrons for a bit.”</p><p>“Thank you kindly. Master Hamish?” The lad sat up as high as he could, and raised his voice so I could better hear him:  “I don’t have the Plague, I promise. I haven’t been around any Plague for more than 3 months. I just wanted to tell you that.”</p><p>“Of course ye don’t, lad. I know ye don’t have the Plague, otherwise I wouldn't have let the room. Seems to me I can smell when a person has Plague on them, and you don’t smell like Black Death. So we’ll just keep an eye on this fever o’ yourn and have you back to doctorin’ right quick.” </p><p>He nodded, sinking back against the pillow. He swallowed the last dregs of tea and lay himself back down as I made to leave. The last glimpse I saw of the lad was his eyes drifting closed to sleep.</p><p>Before returning to my bar, I rounded up Eliza and asked her to keep a special eye on master Doctor, for I knew I had too much work to be giving him the care he should have. Eliza, being as brave (or foolhardy) as her father and kind as her mother, took to the idea gladly. She ran up to go meet him straightaway, though I cautioned her he might be sleeping. She paid no mind, and I let her be.</p><p>Knowing he was in good hands, I proceeded to go back to the bar and wait on the remaining patrons and close down for the night as usual. I wagered there'd be whispers all over town about there being Plague in my inn after the spectacle he'd made, but all the folks around knew the best ale to be had was at my inn, so I hoped business wouldn't be much affected.</p><p>It seemed I had picked the right person to look after master Alastair, for when I tried to go peek in on him once more before I turned in, I passed Eliza going the other way, and the girl shooed me away from his door, whispering that he was sleeping and not to be disturbed. Knowing my daughter was not to be argued with, I did as I was told, though I did have meself a chuckle as I went. </p><p>~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>Next morning, first thing I did, even before opening the inn, was to go look in on the doctor. All of this is a bit above our normal hospitality, mind, but the look in the boy's eyes when he first took off that mask had stuck with me, and I was going to make certain he had all his needs met as long as he was here. </p><p>As expected, master Alastair was sleeping. He was still wearing his black cloak, wrapped tight about himself, along with both blankets, and he seemed to be near shivering where I was near sweating in the warm room. His face was more flushed than ever, his lips were cracked, and his breathing was raspy.</p><p>Even as I watched, his shoulders began to twitch with coughs, though he wasn’t yet awake. That changed promptly, for the coughs came more and more harshly until he was jerked awake to tend to them. He coughed so badly that I had almost made up my mind to go sit him up and make sure he caught his breath when they started to subside, though the poor man was left gasping for air. After he composed himself some, he finally noticed me standing there, and tried to sit up to greet me. I quickly urged him to stay as he was and moved to his side, seeing how his limbs trembled and chills wracked him.</p><p>“Master Alastair, how do ye fare today?” I murmured, clasping his shoulder.</p><p>“ ‘m very dizzy, sir and my bones ache deeply. The room spins around me," he mumbled faintly, eyes heavy-lidded and fever-bright.</p><p>“Ach, now that's right troubling. I’d wager your fever’s just a-roarin’ now, for I feel it through yer clothing. I fear I won’t be much help to ye. But just say the word, I’ll fetch ye anything ye desire, long as it’s in my power.”</p><p> Alastair shifted carefully, and it seemed every movement pained him in some way or other. “I’d much appreciate something to drink,” he rasped, licking his dry lips."</p><p>“Right you are, lad. I’ll have a beverage up for ye in a blink. Don’t stir an inch.”</p><p>I trotted my way down the stairs, and who did I meet coming the other way again but Eliza, up and about far before her normal time. Knowing where she was heading, I quickly passed along what I knew of master Doctor, and asked her to fetch his beverage, for indeed the inn was needing to be opened along with 1,000 other tasks, and there was no one to do them but me. She dashed off straight away, and once again I knew he was in good hands.</p><p>Sure enough, I got so busy, I didn’t see him again until late. I passed Eliza once, coming up from the cellar with bundles of herbs in her arms. She informed me she was making a poultice for the doctor’s fever, as he was near delirious with it. I gave her my blessing, saying I had hoped she would do that very thing, as she had inherited the knowledge of healing herbs from her mother, my dear Margery, and I knew she would do far better at such things than I would have meself.</p><p>It was not until long after dinner, when most folks had gone to their own homes, that I found a chance to go see him again. Eliza was already with him when I peeked in. She was seated at his side, a bowl of water in her lap, and bathing his face with a cool rag. The lad appeared to be asleep, breathing thickly. Eliza turned to me, worry creasing her brow.</p><p>“He’s so feverish, papa. Nothing I do seems to help. He’s having the most awful nightmares.”</p><p>“Keep your chin up, dear heart. Fevers pass in time. He seems a strong lad, and with you helping, he’ll shake it sooner or later. I’m sure you’re doing a fine job tendin' to him. Ye be needin’ anything while I have a moment?”</p><p>She shook her head, turning back to her charge. So, I too turned and left, a knot of worry in me own heart, especially as I heard master Alastair start one of his terrible coughing fits as I shut the door. I hated to burden my daughter with undue concern, and I dearly hoped the poor boy would pull through. ‘Twas a sad day indeed.</p><p>Late that night, Eliza joined me just as I was finishing closing down the inn, and she helped with the chores as she always did, saying master Alastair was asleep for the night. As we worked, she told me what she had learned of him through the day.</p><p>She said he spoke little, often only replying in nods or shakes of the head, but was always the perfect gentleman. She said though that when he woke from his nightmares, he spoke some, wanting to explain the dreams. The reason he hadn’t been around any Plague for 3 months was that his young wife had been with child, and he had quarantined for the required 40 days so he could meet his offspring at the birth. He had arrived just in time, but sadly his wife had died giving the child life. He never even got to see her before she passed. His son, a sickly thing, died a few days later, for he wouldn’t suckle or swallow any food. Master Alastair, having nothing else to do aside from mourn, was heading back to the cities to again help Plague victims. He had got caught in the rain some days back and caught a chill, and he had been unable to shake his cough ever since.  </p><p>I had little to say upon hearing such a tale of sadness. It seemed to me if any man had a right to some comfort and rest, it was master Doctor. I was again glad that I was the one able to be giving it to him, and I could tell Eliza felt the same. We fell to bed that night with our hearts still heavy. </p><p>~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>Next morning, I again went to check on the doctor first thing. The sight I saw upon entering was almost the opposite of what it had been the day before; master Alastair had flung all his covers off, his cloak tangled around his legs, and his limbs flung wide. He was snoring loudly, and I feared for how his poor throat would feel as he woke. Most importantly though, he seemed to be sweating profusely. I wasn’t sure if this was good or bad meself, but any change from his fevered shivering was worth being noted. As I watched, he rolled over, muttering in his sleep, and buried his face in the pillow with a sigh. The change in position eased his snoring, and I quickly petitioned the saints on his behalf for restful, healing sleep. </p><p>This day was less busy than the one before, so I could go look in on him more often. However, every time I did so, he was deeply asleep, usually with Eliza nearby. In fact, Eliza reported that his fever was lessened, but he could hardly keep his eyes open and only wanted to sleep the day away. </p><p>I sensed she was worried, and again reassured her, for sleeping was a part of illness and if his fever was down, all the better. She seemed little comforted, but nodded resignedly.</p><p>The final time I went to see him before I turned in, he was at last sitting up in bed, sipping a bowl of broth, Eliza at his elbow. Both greeted me with tired smiles. I could do naught but smile in return.</p><p>"So it seems we're serving supper in the middle of the night now, Eliza?"</p><p>"He just woke but half an hour ago, and was famished, papa. I didn't think you'd mind.</p><p>"Well, such things aren't our normal accommodations, you see, but I suppose exceptions can be made," I said with a chuckle. "Master Alastair, it's good to see you're awake. How do ye feel?"</p><p>"Some better. It seems the fever has mostly gone, though I'm weary to my bones." </p><p>"That's good to hear, for I believe Eliza would have it no other way than to see ye on the mend. You've deprived me of me girl, master Doctor, for she’s hardly stirred from your side for 2 days, and it's been left to me to run me inn all alone." </p><p>Eliza shot me a look that said she wished I would be quiet, while master Alastair reddened in embarrassment. As he stuttered to find something to say, I stopped him with a wave of me hand and another chuckle.</p><p>"Settle yerself lad, I was only having a bit of a jest. I asked her to look after ye, and she's done a fine job. But I'm mighty glad to find ye feeling better, for 'tis a shame to see a doctor be ill."</p><p>"I'm most grateful for everything you've both done for me," croaked the doctor. "I can't imagine where I would be without your aid."</p><p>"Concern yourself with naught but resting now. We're happy to be looking after ye."</p><p>"Your kindness won't be forgotten," he managed, though the last word was cut short with a barking cough, followed by several more. His face was red from exertion as he quieted and gasped for breath. </p><p>"I'll stop talking yer ear off and leave ye to rest yer voice. Rest well, master Doctor."</p><p>He nodded limply, looking exhausted. Eliza and I exchanged a glance, and I knew she'd be following behind me as soon as he was sleeping.</p><p> AsI walked to me own chambers, I had to chew me lip a bit, for I wondered how master Alastair was to be paying for his room. I hadn't yet seen a hint of coin on him. I had to let it be, though, for in all 'twas merely a room, and if I was to be givin' it to him as charity, so be it. After all, that's as the Lord in Heaven would have it, carin' for the sick and all.</p><p>~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>By the 3rd morning of his stay, I was quite in the habit of looking in on him before I started choring, and on that third morning he looked at peace in sleep for the first time since I’d known him. Imagine my chagrin, then, when a cold draft blew in the door from behind me and stirred the lad awake with a start.</p><p>I hastily whispered my apologies for waking him as he stirred groggily, rubbing his face with a shiver.</p><p>" 'tis no harm, master Hamish," he yawned. "Can I do something for you?"</p><p>"No, no, master Doctor, not at all. 'Tis I who should be asking that of you, for that's why I disturbed ye. Is there anything I could get ye?"</p><p>He shook his head, gesturing to a plate of biscuits and a full mug sitting on the floor nearby. "I have all I need. You've been too good to me."</p><p>"Not at all, sir. Think nothin' of it. But I'll leave ye be to get back to yer rest. Again, I'm right sorry to have woken ye. 'Twas not my intent."</p><p>" 'S no trouble," he mumbled, rolling over, already nearly asleep again. </p><p>I left him be, still kicking myself. Serves me right for being nosy. </p><p>The day passed slowly, and I didn't see Eliza once. Around noontime I made my way up to the sickroom, for lack of nothing else to do and also to make sure all was well with the two of them. Master Alastair was alone, however, looking absorbed with his thoughts. He sat on his bed, leaning against the wall. A book was spread across his lap, and it seemed he had been writing in it before I came in. Seeing me though, he set aside his quill.</p><p>"Master Hamish. What can I do for you?" he asked. His voice was still hoarse, but the strongest I'd heard it yet.</p><p>"Comin' to see ye lad, and me daughter. Is she anywhere hereabouts?"</p><p>"She left some time ago. I thought she was going to you, for I told her I had need of nothing."</p><p>"You're feeling better then, master?" I came closer to better scrutinize him. He had vivid circles under his eyes, and he was far too pale, but the feverish cast to his eyes was gone, and he looked alert and rested.</p><p>He nodded in reply.</p><p>"Cough ain't botherin' ye none?"</p><p>"Some. Better than it was, though. It’s been a relief to not wear the mask for a few days. And Miss Eliza made a tonic for me which helped greatly." </p><p>"She's a good girl, and I've her mother to thank for it. Well, I mainly came to check on yer health and it seems all is well on that front, so if there’s nothin’ ye need, I suppose I'll go see where Eliza got to. I don't mean to disturb ye."</p><p>"Wait, master Hamish." The lad sat up straighter, something clearly on his mind. "May I ask you a question?"</p><p>"O' course, master Doctor."</p><p>"I fear I may sound ungrateful, and nothing could be further from the truth, but a question has been running in my mind the entire time I've been partaking of your hospitality these three days, so I must ask it: Why have you done so much for me while I've been here? I doubt my own kin would give me such care, were I to be ill while staying with them. Yet I am here with you, only a stranger, and you've cared for me like your own son. What has inspired you to such kindness?"</p><p>"Well, I can't speak to the care yer own kin would give ye if ye were ill, but I haven't treated ye any differently than I would any man who came into my inn in the state ye were three nights ago. As to why though... I s’pose it’s due to the fact that I know what it’s like to be the person in a room that everyone's either starin’ at, or pretendin’ doesn’t exist, just as happened to ye when ye first stepped in the door. Yes, I've been that man a time or two as well, and there’s nothin’ on earth that makes a man feel lonelier. I vowed it would never happen to another person in any room where I stood. That, and my dear wife Margery, she’s passed now, but if ever she knew of a soul in need of some comfort, she would be first in line to give it. So I try to do the same, in honor of her memory.”</p><p>He nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you for telling me that. Well, as I’ve said many times, I don’t know how I can ever repay you. All the words in the world couldn’t express my gratitude.” He stifled a little cough as he reached out to shake my hand. I took it gladly. His hand was strong and warm. A better handshake I’ve never had. </p><p>“I dunno about all the words in the world, master Alastair, but there ain’t no need for such thanks. I should hope any good Christian would do the same, and it was no trouble to do it. If yer feelin’ up to it, we’d love to have ye in the tavern for supper. It would greatly please this old barkeep to chat at length with ye around a meal. But for now I won’t keep ye from yer work there, and I’ve yet to see my daughter. We’ll speak again soon. Until then.” I tipped me cap and took me leave, truly thinking I’d see him again after a while. However, that was to be the last time I spoke with him.</p><p>It seemed Eliza had gone to lie down that afternoon, which is why no one could locate her. I eventually found her curled up fast asleep on some grain sacks in a corner. I feared she had been taken with master Alastair’s sickness, but she laughed at my worry as she got up, saying she was merely tired from being up early as well as late, and running up and down the stairs so much. She was without fever, so I had to take her at her word, though I cautioned her not to overtax herself. </p><p>That evening, Eliza reported to me that the Doctor had again taken a bit of a chill and his fever had returned. Not much, but enough to make him tired and without desire to eat, so he would be spending another evening in his room. I was mighty sorry to hear that, and I wished him good health, by means of Eliza. However, due to the rain finally subsiding after weeks of it, my tavern was packed for supper. I could hardly keep my head as I served everyone, and the poor Doctor didn’t cross my mind again until I was turning in many hours later. Eliza was already abed. I debated going to see master Alastair once more before I retired, but I was bone weary, and not to mention afraid of accidentally waking him as I had that morning. So, it seemed best to me at the time to go to bed meself. </p><p>~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>Even the pre-dawn darkness felt fresh after the rain the next morning. Winter was not yet over, but spring felt just a bit closer. I whistled softly to myself as I crept up the stairs to see the doctor. I only hoped he hadn’t taken a turn for the worse again. Making sure no errant breeze would enter this time, I cracked open his door and peered in.</p><p>To my shock, I found his room standing empty. The bed was made, and everything was as it had been when I first brought him here, aside from a large pouch and a sheet of paper lying on the bed. Striding to the items, I first opened the pouch. It was overflowing with coin, at least three times the amount needed to cover his expenses. This alone overwhelmed me, and I had to compose myself for a moment before I took up the paper. It was a letter addressed to Eliza and myself. I read slowly, several times over. </p><p>It was written in a fine, straight hand, exactly the script I would expect from such a man. He spent the majority of the lines thanking us yet again for the kindness we had shown him from the first moment he was at our inn until the last. He hoped the payment he had left was enough, though nothing could repay what he owed us, so he said. He made special mention of the fact that he had arrived here while in his life’s lowest point, but it was us who had helped him back on his feet. He apologized for leaving without saying goodbye, but he felt it was best. At the very end, he mentioned that he didn’t know when he was to return, but we could count on meeting him in the future, if we would have him, for he would greatly like to remain in touch and see us again one day. </p><p>As I finished reading it, Eliza entered the room behind me. She looked around the room, her face expressionless.</p><p>"He's gone, then?"</p><p>"Aye. He's gone."</p><p>"I had a notion he would leave today. Well, I suppose it was to happen eventually. He'll be back."</p><p>I glanced at the letter, then back at her, knowing she hadn't read it. "How do ye know that, lass?"</p><p>"Because he knows he's safe here. He needs to do his work. But when he wants to be safe again, he'll be back." She shrugged as she spoke, as if everyone should know such things.</p><p>I could only chuckle and shake me head at the insight of women. As we headed back downstairs, I said a prayer for master Doctor's  safety, already missing his gentle presence and looking forward to the day we would see him again.</p>
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